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"Do you love Christ, Ellen?" She nodded, weeping afresh. "Do you love him less since he has brought you into this great sorrow?" "No," sobbed Ellen, "more!" He drew her closer to his breast, and was silent a little while. "I am very glad to hear you say that! then all will be well. And haven't you the best reason to think that all is well with your dear mother?" Ellen almost shrieked.
For an instant the mother's face grew dark with passion; then she made a movement as if she were about to spurn the supplicant indignantly, when Charles sprang before her, and lifting Ellen in his arms, bore her from the house, and placed her half fainting in the carriage that still stood at the door.
So Ellen made it, and then began the toast. But she began to think, too, as she watched it, how few more times she would be able to do so how soon her pleasant tea makings would be over and the desolate feeling of separation began to come upon her before the time.
He had not been to bed at all. The lamp was burning in his sitting-room, and the table was covered with papers. He had been writing. He became very cheerful when he heard that the attack was over. "I think you ought rather to treat us to a cup of coffee," he answered, when Ellen scolded him because he was not asleep. Ellen went down and made the coffee, and they drank it in Brun's room.
You ben't the daughter of Morgan Montgomery, be you?" "Yes, I am," said Ellen, half-smiling. "And you are come to make a visit to Miss Fortune, eh?" "Yes," said Ellen, smiling no longer. "And Miss Fortune han't come up to meet you! that's real shabby of her; and how to get you down there to-night, I am sure is more than I can tell." And he shouted, "Wife!" "What's the matter, Mr.
Ellen had the vaguest ideas about the mortgage, and was half inclined to think it might be a disfiguring patch in the plastering of the sitting-room, which hung down in an unsightly fashion with a disclosure of hairy edges, and threatened danger to the heads underneath.
He was expecting to hear something about the shop expecting, as it were, a touch on a sore, and he waited for it meekly. Ellen turned her lovely, glowing face towards him. "Father," she said, as if nothing out of the common had happened, "are you going down-town to-night?" Andrew brightened a little. "I can if you want anything, Ellen," he said.
Summoning all her courage, Ellen entered her aunt's boudoir in the morning, and again made her request with an earnestness that almost startled Mrs. Hamilton, particularly as it was accompanied by a depression of manner, which she now did not very often permit to obtain ascendency.
Combermere, Ellen Stiles and Mrs. Sampson were the guilty ones. Rustle of their dresses, the heavy flop of the side Cloister door as it closed behind them, and then silence once more and the thin angry voice of Canon Foster, "Let us pray." Out in the grey Cloisters it was charming.
I looked at Jack: he looked at me: Ellen groaned with pain. "Why, yes! of course there is," said this man for emergencies; "Fisher takes out teeth, he told me so the other day." Now I did not believe that Fisher knew any more about extracting teeth than I did myself, but I breathed a prayer to the Recording Angel, and said naught. "I'll go get Fisher," said Jack.
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